Holy Matrimony
by Serendipity1
Summary: Gourry has finally worked up the confidence to pop the question. Of course, it wouldn't be that simple would it? Murphy's Law, relatives from Hell, Dark Lords, and a whole load of chaos. (OLD STORY. Permanently discontinued)
1. A Typical Morning With Lina And Gourry

Holy Matrimony  
  
****  
  
Disclaimer: Let it be known that I own not the Slayers characters, nor the various Dark Lords, nor the collection of Gods, nor do I own any Slayers spell. Let it also be known that I do not take any responsibility for the actions of the characters in this fic.  
  
****  
  
It was a normal day in the peaceful city of Arvene. Villagers bustled along in their normal, villager way, collecting groceries from random stands selling fruit and other such products. Wives greeted other wives and they gossiped, mostly about their friends and relative's illicit affair, misfortunes, and the size of their husbands' equipment. Small children frolicked in streets full of possibly hazardous garbage, drunken men, and speeding horse-driven carts.  
  
Birds chirped, the sun shone, and spiders merrily went about the business of sucking the liquefied intestines out of hapless flies.  
  
The inn blew up.  
  
Ah, a normal day indeed. Or as normal as a day could possibly be. According to human standards of normality, nothing can be considered normal, although it may be nice to believe it is.  
  
And nothing could possibly be normal when Lina Inverse is a guest at your home town.  
  
Typical, perhaps, but certainly not normal.  
  
And as bits and pieces of flying cement and wood hit the local bar, Lina stared at the pile of debris that had once been a decent establishment and uttered the traditional words said at this particular kind of occasion.  
  
"Oops."  
  
****  
  
The day had started out well enough. Sunny, bright, and pretty much ideal weather for a traveling sorceress and mercenary to go shake down bandits for cash. Unfortunately, aside from the weather, everything else pretty much followed Murphy's Law, and proceeded to slide downhill at a breakneck pace.  
  
Lina woke up on the wrong side of bed. Her bed, unfortunately, was up against the wall. Consequently, the first words she uttered on that ever so perfect spring day were far too profanely explicit to write up here, and will have to be left to the imagination. Suffice to say, she was incredibly NOT happy. So not happy, she decided, in the sleep-fogged kind of logic that belongs to us all at five o' clock in the morning, that if she was going to suffer, so was everyone around her.  
  
And poor, poor Gourry was the only person that fit into that category at the moment.  
  
He was dragged from dreams of food and large, inflatable jelly-fish, to stare face-to-face with a very bruised and unhappy Lina, who promptly gave him a resounding slap across the face.  
  
He stared at her.  
  
She stared back, with a kind of half-asleep glare.  
  
He was the first to break the silence. "So," he said with the intelligence of an eggshell, "Have a good night's sleep?"  
  
Lina sputtered in inarticulate rage for a few minutes, then growled rather loudly. "Does it *look* like I had a good night's sleep? Tell me, Gourry, does anything ever penetrate that thick skull of yours?"  
  
"No?" he answered, giving her a happy, but not too bright grin.  
  
She sighed. "I really should have seen that coming a mile away." Kicking the covers off, she got into a sitting position and stretched. "My nose is gonna sting for quite some time."  
  
"Why don't you do some healing spell thingie?"  
  
"Gourry?" she growled, "Where have you been for the past two days? Have you wondered why I've been walking everywhere lately?"  
  
"I thought you wanted the exercise." He replied, with perfect sincerity.  
  
"Well, you thought WRONG! Did you even bother to notice my lack of bandit- raiding? Or did you think we were on vacation?"  
  
Gourry stared off into space for a while, then sat completely upright as the thought entered his mind. "I know!" He yelled, "It's that time of the-"  
  
Lina clapped a hand over his mouth with a bit more force than necessary. "Yes," she hissed through gritted teeth. "It is *that* time. And this is the reason why my nose will have to remain bruised."  
  
Gourry looked up at her, eyes round with concern. "I could kiss it and make it better." Apparently ignoring the crimson blush staining Lina's cheeks, he went on: "I mean, that's what my mom used to do when I was little. Just a little peck on the bruise. Heh, it would actually feel a little bit better afterwards. Lina, are you sick? Lina?"  
  
Lina shook herself free of the images invading her mind. "Um.no! No thank you! I think it's fine the way it is!" She paused, then went on. "And I am going to get some breakfast!" She swung her feet over the side of the bed, then stood and resolutely walked towards the door.  
  
"Uh, Lina?"  
  
"No, I'm not gonna share. You get your own breakfast."  
  
"It's not that. It's just-"  
  
"No!"  
  
The door slammed, and Gourry was left alone in the room. "I just thought she might want to put some pants on before she went walking through the hall," he remarked quietly to himself.  
  
Sure enough, in no less than five minutes Lina came flying through the door. "Gourry!" she yelled, attaching herself to his neck. "You jerk! How dare you let me walk out there in just a pajama shirt! Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
"Ack," replied Gourry, indicating that he needed air to talk, or live for that matter.  
  
Lina let go of his neck in a huff and stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. "You could have at least SAID something? Do you realize that there was an entire group of people out there in the hallway? One of them *whistled* at me! How dare he?"  
  
"You didn't kill him, did you?" Gourry asked, a hint of fear entering his tone. They'd already had problems in the last inn they'd stopped in.  
  
"Of course not! I just kneed him in the groin! Do you think I'd just kill someone like that? How rude!"  
  
"No comment." Muttered Gourry, memories of past occasions coming up.  
  
And at that moment, realization dawned on Lina that she was still wearing no pants, and that Gourry was staring at her legs in an overly admiring way. Well, at least she thought so.  
  
"Pervert!" she yelled, dodging into the bathroom, then began pelting Gourry with whatever object came to hand.  
  
"What'd I do this time?" he yelled, avoiding the rain of bathroom objects that were coming from the bathroom. A rubber ducky bounced off his head, letting out a squeak.  
  
"Don't give me that!" A rubber black dragon joined the ducky, letting out another squeak as it hit the floor. "And throw me my pants!"  
  
"Where are they?"  
  
"I don't know!"  
  
"Well, how am I supposed to find them?"  
  
"Don't give me that!"  
  
Another rubber toy sailed out of the bathroom and hit Gourry in the head again. "Ouch! Okay, I'm looking! Geez, how many rubber toys do you have in there?" He grabbed the pants, then threw them at the half-open bathroom door. "Here!"  
  
"Hey-" There was a pause. "These aren't mine! Gourry!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What have you been doing in here?"  
  
"Nothing!"  
  
"Oh, sure, like I'm gonna believe that."  
  
"Well, if they're not your pants, then whose are they?"  
  
"I don't know, but I don't wear blue pants, that's for sure!"  
  
"What?" He paused. "Oh! Those were mine! I got this new kind of soap, and it shrunk them."  
  
"Oh. Weird."  
  
"Yeah, I thought so." He rummaged around some more. "Man, these bras are small."  
  
"What? WHAT? How dare you!" An enormous rubber teddy was lobbed at Gourry, bowling him over and sending him crashing into the bed. "Hey!" He yelled, "That hurt!"  
  
"Serves you right!"  
  
A pair of pink pants fell on Gourry's face from where they had been thrown up by the impact. "Found your pants."  
  
"Throw them here!"  
  
"I'm throwing, I'm throwing." The pants were launched at the door. "You didn't have to do that so hard!"  
  
"I've been too nice! You're out of practice."  
  
And in the room next door, a visiting dignitary and his companions were swamped with unwelcome images and thoughts, their sick minds becoming their own undoing. This story isn't about them, however, so no one really cares.  
  
Anyway, Lina walked out of the bathroom, clad in her pajama shirt and pants. "Now, she said with perfect calm, which, as all of us know, is never good, "I forgot to ask before, but why are we sharing a room? Why aren't you in your room?"  
  
"This is my room."  
  
"Why am I not in my room then?" Lina yelled. "A-and why were my pants on the floor?" She thought long and hard about the implications.  
  
"I dunno. You just walked into my room last night. I think you were sleepwalking."  
  
"And the pants?"  
  
"I woke up in the middle of the night with them wrapped around my face."  
  
"Your-" Lina's memory kicked in. "Oh, yeah! Gourry, you snore WAY too loud! I couldn't get any sleep!"  
  
"Well, I didn't ask for you to come in my room."  
  
"That's a moot point!"  
  
"Um, Lina? Maybe you could go into your room and perhaps get dressed?" Gourry suggested, trying to divert the conversation before he got yet another beating today. I mean, the guy wasn't too bright, but that didn't make him suicidal.  
  
Lina blinked. "Fine! But don't think that this discussion is over!"  
  
And with that, Lina Inverse left the room, banging the door shut. There were a few screams from the hallway, but they quickly stopped.  
  
Gourry decided not to bother thinking about it. Not that he really did most of the time. Instead, he began to focus entirely on The Plan. Yes, The Plan. He'd been thinking of this for quite some time. He'd gotten everything that seemed necessary for such an occasion. He'd brushed his teeth. Yes, he was ready. Today he would.  
  
Propose to Lina!  
  
And with almost supernatural timing, the local marching band began to play dramatic music in the town square.  
  
****  
  
The inn's restaurant/bar was in it's normal morning rush as people ordered mass quantities of unrecognizable fried things and ale. There's no better way to start a day than to drown yourself in alcohol, apparently. For you see, the restaurants in this time period were very much like present ones. They may claim that they go for quality, when really all the do is throw together the cheapest stuff they can get. Never ask what is in the sausage.  
  
Lina plunked herself down at a generic, round wooden inn table and picked up a menu.  
  
In very little time a waiter appeared, hovering at her elbow like a helpful, overly polite mosquito. "Good morning miss, and what can I get for you this fine morning?"  
  
Lina fixed him in a crimson stare, causing him to sweat slightly, "I," she informed him, "Would like three number fives, two number fours, one number two, eight number elevens, and one very large cup of orange juice." She thought about it. "Pronto."  
  
The waiter gave a nervous giggle. "Ah.are you planning to be having company?"  
  
"No. This is all mine." She gave him a glare that dared him to make something of it.  
  
The waiter decided that life was a good thing to have and scuttled off towards the kitchens, leaving Lina alone at the table.  
  
Gourry hovered in the doorway of the restaurant, going through the plan in his mind. He would walk up to her, hand her the marriage, and say "Will you ring me?" No, that wasn't right. He'd hand her his knee and go down on one ring? No, no, that was wrong. He'd get down on one knee, hand her the box, and kiss the ring. No, no, no! Oh it was too early for this.  
  
****  
  
Elsewhere, on Wolf Pack Island, Xelloss and Zelas were having a typical morning. Notice that they also did not have a 'normal' morning. I mean, can you really see normal applied to them?  
  
In any case, a typical morning at the Metalliums was made up of at least ten cases of mass homicide, some masochism, a few things that will remain unmentioned due to the extreme amount of blood, gore, and sex, all at the same time, and then a quick tea.  
  
Actually, not too much different from the lives of many people today, save for the tea.  
  
"So, what's going on in the world today?"  
  
"Don't you know?"  
  
"The paperboy hasn't delivered in weeks."  
  
"Possibly because the wolves tore him in two."  
  
"Oh, damn, that was him? I knew I recognized the corpse. Xelloss, arrange for another paperboy."  
  
"Yes mistress."  
  
"So, anything interesting happening?"  
  
"The dragons are being hypocritical and arrogant, humans are delving into something they call 'science', and at this very moment, Deep Sea Dolphin is preparing to kill Lina Inverse, for no apparent reason."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well.that's what she said." There was a pause. "Of course, she also told me that Gaav was actually a woman."  
  
They both shuddered.  
  
"Well, just in case, keep an eye out- not LITERALLY!"  
  
"Sorry, it was just too easy."  
  
"Yeah, well, you know what happens when I get annoyed."  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"Xelloss?"  
  
"Yes, Lord Beast Master?"  
  
"Perhaps you wouldn't mind getting me some take-out on the way home?"  
  
"Yes mistress."  
  
"I want the beef lo-mein and sweet and sour pork."  
  
"Yes, mistress."  
  
"And make sure they get me a better fortune cookie this time. Last time there was something about 'living a life of peace and happiness."  
  
"Of course."  
  
And with that, Xelloss borrowed a move from the sci-fi movies and teleported out, leaving Zelas sitting at the table. She blinked.  
  
"Damn," she said, "He took the sugar bowl." 


	2. Murphy's Law CAN Be Your Friend

Holy Matrimony  
  
*** ***  
  
"If idiots could fly, this place would be an airport."  
- Anonymous  
  
*** ***  
  
In the far and uncharted regions of the Demon Sea, beneath the dark and inordinately creepy waters of the briny deep, there lies a castle of enormous size and impossibly evil aura. It's paint is as dark as a fresh bruise, it's dungeons constantly echo with dark, brooding music, and it's spiny, twisted towers and parapets emanate a malevolence and dark horror that send passers-by into fits of terror.  
  
Well, they would if there were any passers-by. Being under the ocean, it didn't get many tourist activity at all, no matter how hard the mazoku underlings tried to get visitors in. The previous year, they had put together several thousand brochures, designed t-shirt logos, and even constructed a evil-looking little souvenir shop right next to the Place of Terror. They had sold exactly one plushie and one spiked lollipop. Life was hard.  
  
In the throne room of this blatantly evil structure there perched Deep Sea Dolphin, trying her utmost to look regally evil while sucking on a large cherry-flavored lollipop. Cherry was her second favorite flavor, but Xelloss had snuck in and stolen all of the pineapple.  
  
"SERVANTS!" she snapped, glaring at the assorted sea creature-shaped mazoku crouched before her. "You there, dolphin-"  
  
"Porpoise, my lady." The creature interrupted, wringing its fins sheepishly, it's eyes fixed on a point in the horizon, just beyond Deep Sea Dolphin's head.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" she asked in tones of glacial rage.  
  
"Porpoise," it repeated miserably. "There are a few minor differences."  
  
"SHUT UP!" Dolphin snapped irritably, flinging the lollipop at the porpoise's head. "I don't care if you're a dolphin, a porpoise, or a pair of vanilla flavored panties!"  
  
"Mmm, vanilla," muttered a starfish attendant dreamily.  
  
Dolphin shot it a frozen glare and continued, unwrapping another cherry- flavored lolly as she spoke. "All that matters is my master plan, the plan that shall make me quite happy for reasons that I am unwilling to discuss." She gave everyone in the room a quick glare, just on principle, and went on further. "It appears that we are in a romance fic."  
  
Every mazoku in the throne room gave a simultaneous gasp, stared at Dolphin in absolute horror, and then began talking at once.  
  
"-Can't believe it's happening *again*."  
  
"It's been so long-"  
  
"-Can't recall where I hid the bondage material-"  
  
"Has anyone informed Lord Dynast yet?"  
  
"It's not about ME, you fools!" Snapped Dolphin, recalling deeply buried memories of frozen whipped cream," I happen to be the appointed antagonist. As such, I must go forth in my sacred duty of killing the two lovebirds."  
  
"But then, don't you get killed at the end?" piped up one of the servants.  
  
"Killed? Of course I get killed. Don't be a dolt." She flung her pillow at the hapless servant. "Being a villain in a romantic story and not getting killed. Ha! Anyway, what I really need right now is a couple minions to draw out the dramatic tension and lengthen the story." She gave everyone a bright smile. "So! Who wants to die?"  
  
Terrified silence from the assembled mazoku, who all tried to look very small and in no hurry at all to die or even to move.  
  
"Oh, come ON." Dolphin cried, "You're all such wimps! How you came from my own astral body I shall never know." Her eyes scanned the room and finally came to rest upon the cringing form of Porpoise. "How about you, Mister Dolphin?"  
  
"Porpoise, my lady," it corrected, half-sobbing.  
  
"Whatever. I think you and that tortoise-"  
  
"Turtle, o esteemed evil one."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He is a turtle, my lady, Tortoises are land-dwelling, my lady, they can not survive underwater. Also, they lack the ability to pull their head and neck inside their shells as a defense mechanism, typically they draw their heads to the side of-" And he would have gone on and on if Deep Sea Dolphin hadn't lobbed a jawbreaker at his head.  
  
"If I wanted long speeches about animals I'd watch educational television. Anyway. You, turtle, or tortoise, or whatever the hell you are! You and this Porpoise guy are to go find Lina Inverse and her loverboy and terrorize them."  
  
"In what way, maleficent one?"  
  
"You know, blast a hole in whatever place they're at, appear dramatically in the doorway, demand a fight, the usual business."  
  
"May I ask you a question?" piped Turtle.  
  
"What?"  
  
"How is it that you are sucking a lollipop underwater? Usually, the lollipop would disintegrate."  
  
"It's magic." Replied Dolphin tiredly. "A special kind of magic I employ to keep my hair down around my shoulders and my robes from getting wet. It's the same kind of special 'magic' that allows us to talk clearly underwater."  
  
"Well, it's not so much 'magic' as it's a kind of-"  
  
"GET THE HELL OUT!" roared Deep Sea Dolphin, twitching uncontrollably. She pointed at the ornately evil door, accentuating each word with a jab of her finger. "OUT, OUT, OUT! And I don't want to see either of you back until you've completed your mission!"  
  
"Well, that's the last time I sign up to be a lower-ranked mazoku," muttered Turtle to Porpoise. "The employee discount sucks and I don't even get a gold watch."  
  
"Tell me about it," replied Porpoise, as the remains of the remarkably intact and un-disintegrated lollipop connected squarely with the back of his head.  
  
*** ***  
  
It is a well-known fact that proposals of any sort never go the way the proposer intended. Especially when the proposal is something as important as marriage. Especially when you happen to live in the Slayers universe. And even more especially when your name is Gourry Gabriev.  
  
The gods and whatever higher power there is had apparently taken against him. They had made charts, long essays, and even had a formal meeting discussing exactly why he could not just propose to Lina very simply and uneventfully. In the end, much coffee was drunk, much aspirin was consumed, and many, many minds were lost, but the final answer came up, and the universe began, in it's random, chaotic way, to make things incredibly hard for the poor sword-wielding blond in question.  
  
And on that particular day, it started by placing an incredibly stupid waiter in the way of Gourry and his Plan.  
  
It was not the waiter in question's fault that he was oh, so incredibly stupid. Some people are born with disabilities of that sort. You see them everywhere, in lines at the supermarket, in parking lots, and most often in the public school system. The teachers, not the students. It was also not his fault that the Powers That Be had decided to use him as their pawn. But it was a true and sad fact that he was obstructing the progress of true love, (If you could call it that,) and people who do that never come to a good end.  
  
"You must have," the waiter informed Gourry, "Your hotel room key, or your receipt, or some other form of proof that you, indeed, are in temporary residence in the hotel."  
  
Gourry looked at him, puzzled. "But we didn't get a receipt."  
  
"That is not the point here, sir"  
  
"But, I'm right here. Inside the hotel. I'm past the front desk. Isn't that proof that I got a room?" asked Gourry, displaying one of his rare moments of logic.  
  
The waiter twirled his moustache in what he obviously thought to be a smooth, classy way. It actually made him resemble a stereotypical villain who ties heroines to train tracks with sloppy knot-tying skills. "That is not good enough proof sir. You must show me your room key."  
  
"Lina's got it."  
  
"Then you may *not* enter the hotel restaurant, sir."  
  
"Can't you just let me get Lina? Look, she's right over there!" Gourry pointed to Lina, currently hidden behind a mountain of food.  
  
The waiter turned and surveyed the table thoughtfully, an expression of contemplation painted across his wiry face. A long moment went by. Finally, he turned back around to face Gourry. "No." he said simply.  
  
Gourry stared at the man. "Why?"  
  
"You sir, are becoming quite out of order!" snapped the waiter irritably. He took one of Gourry's arms and starting pushing in a feeble attempt to budge him.  
  
"Excuse me?" asked Gourry in confusion, looking down at the odd little man latched on to his arm.  
  
"Don't act stupid!" remarked the waiter, giving up on trying to move Gourry by pure muscle, (or lack thereof), and was now simply swatting at him, as though he were a large, blond, and rather muscular mosquito. "If you do not move in the next three minutes I shall be forced to," he paused, unsure on what would be a proper threat, "I will be forced to call the guard upon you!"  
  
"What guard?"  
  
The waiter was taken aback. "What guard?" he asked, stalling for time. "What guard?"  
  
"You have a guard?"  
  
'Of COURSE we have a guard!" stammered the waiter, desperately thinking of a way to obtain a guard in the next three minutes. "How dare you suggest that we are guard-less! What cheek! I should have you thrown out, sir! In fact," he added, completely out of control of his mouth, "I shall get the guard right now!" With that, he turned and stomped out of the hotel restaurant, dead set on getting some random person to stand as a guard for long enough to kick Gourry out.  
  
Gourry stared at the empty space once taken up by the waiter, shrugged and moved on to Lina's table.  
  
The Powers That Be all shook their heads in disgust and decided that next time they created a clever diversion, they'd use someone with an IQ over 2.6. Of course, like other forms of government, the Powers That Be were incredibly incompetent, and the chance of any intelligent diversionary tactics occurring were slim to none.  
  
An example of this would be the legendary battle of Ophidia. Both sides were great, mighty empires. Both were noble and great. Both wanted the same land. And there was where it got tricky. For they also had different, yet uniquely good religions and both believed that God and All That Is Just had granted them that particular space of land. The reason for this is because the almighty Powers That Be were divided on the issue, and had a few members acting independently as 'avatars' to encourage whichever side they favored. Of course the result was a massacre, and it turned out that there was no one left alive to claim the land.  
  
There was a lot of covering up, but the Powers had finally convinced whoever was left to tell the tale that a great demon king had used his subtle mind control to bring upon the downfall of both great civilizations. Of course the humans took it, hook, line, and sinker.  
  
Sadly enough, none of those Powers had seen the error of their stupid ways, or at least had the decency to retire, for these very same idiots were the ones in charge of the fated romance of Lina and Gourry.  
  
Bad things happen when L-sama goes on vacation.  
  
Anyway, rid of the minor obstacle in his Plan to gain Lina's hand in marriage, Gourry made his way across the crowded restaurant, every brain cell he was in possession of focused on one thing, and one thing only.  
  
He would propose to Lina. He would get Lina to marry him. They *would* live happily ever after. He- What was that music? No, keep focused. Marry Lina. Marry Lina. Marry Lina. It was very simple. He'd go up and say: 'Lina, would you marry me?' Excellent. Perfect. Marry Lina. Marry- FOOD!  
  
The car of Gourry's mind screeched to a halt and swerved in an entirely new direction, causing other thought-cars to smash into the wall of instinct that threatened to devour his consciousness whole. One thought car burst into flame, making absolutely sure that Gourry would never again think of a pink elephant.  
  
"Oh, no you don't!" yelled Lina. "You're going to have to order your own food. I have barely enough as it is!"  
  
Other patrons of the restaurant stared at the food heaped in mountains at the table and became quite confused.  
  
"But Lina," whined Gourry, making the cute puppy dog face rumored to turn the coldest and cruelest woman into a soggy piece of tissue. "I'm hungry."  
  
Lina was resistant to the puppy dog eyes. "No," she said staunchly, "My food. Mine."  
  
"It's not fair," murmured a young girl at a nearby table to her friend. "Some girls can eat like that and still stay so thin."  
  
"Metabolism." Muttered the other girl, stabbing a sausage with her fork.  
  
Gourry dropped himself in his seat, still pouting. A waitress hurried up, taking out her notebook and quill as she did.  
  
"May I take your order, sir?" she asked, plastering a sugary smile on her face.  
  
"Yes, I'd like-" Gourry squinted at the menu. "One of everything here, and a pitcher of coffee."  
  
The waitress stared at him.  
  
He gave her a cheery smile in return.  
  
Scribbling something in her notebook, she turned and strode off towards the kitchens, muttering to herself about having to carry too much in this job, darn it.  
  
"So," said Gourry to Lina, "Are you feeling better?"  
  
"My homicidal tendencies have ebbed," replied Lina, then shoveled some more food in her mouth, " Anf I shink I canf forkisf foo for dat shtunt dish mornfingh."  
  
"Oh, that's good," replied Gourry, an expert in the art of 'Got-My-Mouth- Full translation'. "So you'll be expecting the baby any day now?"  
  
He was hit in the face with a mouthful of partially chewed bacon.  
  
"WHAT?" roared Lina, her face the color of a spontaneously combusting flamingo, "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"  
  
But then again, even experts make mistakes.  
  
"Sorry!" he apologized, waving his arms wildly, "I didn't hear you right! You had your mouth full!"  
  
"Do I look like I'm expecting?" she roared.  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Please keep it down ma'am, the whole restaurant does not need to hear," reprimanded a passing waiter, then cringed as Lina swiveled her head and shot him a glare o' death.  
  
"Shaddup!" she snapped, her eyes blazing with unholy fire.  
  
"Yes'm", the waiter squeaked, and scurried away to the kitchen, pondering the benefits of a future in dentistry.  
  
Lina turned back to Gourry. "Well?"  
  
"Sorry." He squeaked, trying not to make any sudden moves. Wait, no eye contact, they perceive eye contact as a challenge. Just try to look small and not make any sudden moves, and she'll leave you alone.  
  
Fortunately, a squad of waitresses showed up before Lina could slaughter her fiancée-to-be, carrying enough food to feed a small army. This, of course, was Gourry's breakfast. But then, they were followed by a trio of men in tuxedos, carrying large bouquets of flowers and singing.  
  
"I don't remember ordering that," Gourry muttered.  
  
"Congratulations, sir and ma'am!" yelled one of the tuxedo men, as the waitresses began to unload the food on the table, "You are the winner of today's lovebird special! Banzai!"  
  
There was an explosion of brightly colored confetti and streamers.  
  
"Yes!" roared another tuxedo man, holding his bouquet of red roses like an Olympian torch, "You are the five-hundredth couple to order the Ham And Eggs Special! Have some roses!" With this, he flung his bouquet at Lina, who took it awkwardly.  
  
"You get a free trip, consisting of the most romantic places we could possibly think of! Have a wonderful time!" screamed the third, handing over the tickets to Gourry with a dramatic flourish.  
  
And without leaving the two 'lovebirds' time to blink, (or scream, in Lina's case), they were gone in a swirling cloud of heart-shaped confetti.  
  
A deafening silence filled the room.  
  
"Oh," said Xelloss, from where he'd just teleported, "Have I come at a bad time?"  
  
*** ***  
  
"For you see," explained Ceipheed, at the far end of the restaurant, swirling his Shirley Temple with a bendy straw, "Many couples need a bit of a push to realize their true love."  
  
"That's not a push," exclaimed Shabranigdo, pushing away his Bloody Mary on the rocks, "That's more like shoving them into a canyon and shooting them directly off lover's leap!"  
  
"Well, subtlety obviously doesn't work for them," Ceipheed sniffed primly, "For instance, I made absolutely sure that they woke up to the smell of roses last week."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Lina's allergic to roses."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Then, I had them 'accidentally' take a wrong turn and they ended up in Lover's Lane."  
  
"Okay, the theory's sound. What happened?"  
  
"They depleted all the hotdog vendors' merchandise, blew up some trees fighting over it, and ended up with Lina pushing Gourry in the babbling brook- Hey! This is not funny!"  
  
"Sorry. What next?"  
  
"I tried the 'stuck together in a cave in a snowstorm' scenario." muttered Ceipheed gloomily. "Gourry ended up in the world's biggest snowball, rolling off the mountain and directly into a nearby town."  
  
"Hey, next time you try to hook these two up, I'm definitely coming along."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
*** *** 


	3. Bartender, Pour Me Another One

Holy Matrimony  
  
*** ***  
  
"I haven't the slightest idea what a 'mud bath' is, and what's more, I really don't intend to find out."  
  
The brochures had been dropped unceremoniously on the table, their edges occasionally being dipped into the leftover egg and beer littering the table and making something that greatly resembled a modern art masterpiece. Once they had gotten over their initial shock at being part of yet another randomly insane occurrence, they had checked the brochures for any sign of mazoku plot.  
  
Finding none, they'd immediately checked Xelloss for a mazoku plot. After coming to the realization that he was a mazoku, and therefore would not tell them of any plot, they'd given up and eaten things. A lot of things. While trying to ignore the hawklike stare of one of the odd men at the bar, who kept on muttering things like 'romance' and 'matchmaker's hell' to the man sitting next to him. Finally, they'd begun to rifle through the brochures to find anything that mentioned treasure or magical artifacts.  
  
Unfortunately, you don't often find such things in locations by the name of 'The Love Boat'  
  
"I had a mud bath once," Gourry offered, "I used to really like them when I was little."  
  
"Well, apparently people pay for these things." Lina studied the pamphlet curiously, eyebrows furrowed, "I don't get it. There's plenty of mud outside. If you really have the bizarre compulsion to bathe in it, why bother going to a spa?"  
  
"Some people just like to spend money, I guess." Gourry took a swig of his orange juice and spat out some confetti.  
  
Outside of the inn, a whispered conversation was being held in the alley by two dark, shadowed figures. They dripped water profusely.  
  
"So, I walk in and say something randomly threatening, without revealing my purposes?"  
  
"No, no, no." Porpoise squinted at the crumpled piece of paper he held in his fins. "It says here that before you initiate any threatening conversation, you must first blow something up. Anything. Or lob some sort of magical attack at them. That's if you're a mazoku."  
  
"What do humans do?"  
  
"Throw arrows and look pathetic, mostly. And insult Lina's breasts."  
  
"Ah." A pause. "So I blow something up, then state my purposes, and then try and kill her?"  
  
"Well, it says her that you have to call her by her full name. No saying 'you' or 'hey'. It's gotta be 'Lina Inverse'. With a nice little pause in the beginning for drama."  
  
"Ah." Turtle scratched his head. "Mistress Deep Sea Dolphin sure goes in for the drama, doesn't she?"  
  
"Damn straight. Now hold these smoke bombs for a bit, I'm going to search for the choreographed steps she wrote for us.  
  
"Lina, what's an aphrodisiac?" Gourry held up the brochure he was reading and waved it in front of Lina's face, his expression one of mild bafflement.  
  
"Beats me." Lina said, shrugging noncommittally. "Sounds like a kind of medicine to me."  
  
The man drinking the Shirley Temple snickered and nudged his drinking partner in a knowing way. The other man sighed, and raised a hand.  
  
"Bartender, I'd like another Bloody Mary on the rocks, please."  
  
"Lina, why do they sell leather whips in this 'romantic' store?" came the half-bellowed question from across the room.  
  
"And a glass of brandy as well."  
  
"I just don't get it," Lina said, rummaging through the stacks of glossy paper. She had an odd feeling that she should be traumatized for life, but she didn't quite know why yet. "If all of these places are for 'lovebirds', why do they sell such weird stuff? Look at this. It's a dog collar. Is that supposed to be for your boyfriend's pet?"  
  
Xelloss fought with an overwhelming urge to snicker.  
  
Gourry put down the booklet he was reading, confused. The writer seemed to have mixed up animal care and romance. That seemed to be the only explanation for the whips, chains, and collars. The vanilla- flavored panties still puzzled him, but he tucked that information into an available corner of his mind and willed himself to forget. A thought car drove up, took the idea's change, and wheeled away.  
  
"This place looks semi-normal," Lina commented, holding up a piece of bright pink paper. It read: 'Madame Zolda's Spells And Ointments. Free Love Potion With The Purchase of Any Amulet. No Familiars Allowed."  
  
"I was thinking of shopping for some supplies anyway," she remarked casually. "Might as well go and check it out."  
  
"What about the rest of these places?" asked Gourry, holding up a handful of pamphlets and making very sure *not* to ask about what 'supplies' she was referring to. A few of the brochures fell from his hand and littered the top of the table, their covers broadcasting places of romance, where starry-eyed lover met and proceeded to do things that were vaguely mentioned and alluded to, but never really put baldly.  
  
Lina gave the brightly-colored things a glance she normally reserved for dripping octopus tentacles, then shrugged. "Why not. It's free, and we might find something interesting."  
  
Muffled voices leaked into the room.  
  
"So I throw the smoke bomb?"  
  
"No, no, no, you idiot, you throw that directly after you blow down the door."  
  
"Doesn't blowing up the door usually provide it's own smoke?"  
  
"Of course it does. It's just not enough smoke. We need enough to keep us shielded from sight for about five minutes, so the smoke can blow through the room menacingly and cause a fine distraction."  
  
"Distraction from what, exactly?"  
  
"From blowing our heads off."  
  
Gourry glanced towards the direction the voices were coming from, his expression one of mild bafflement. "Lina," he said pointing a finger towards what, a few minutes earlier, had been a seemingly normal door, "Can doors usually talk?"  
  
"Of course they don't, Gourry you moron." Lina growled, giving the door the fish eye. The fish eye is a look of severe suspicion, so you know. The name seems to imply a dull, glazed stare, slightly reminiscent of lemon, parsley, and slabs of ice.  
  
"Well," Xelloss interrupted, "There are some doors that speak-"  
  
"Shut up, Xelloss."  
  
"Wait, if doors don't talk-"  
  
"And you, Gourry."  
  
The muffled conversation outside the door went on.  
  
"So we blow up the door, toss the smoke bomb, and then-"  
  
"Excuse me." A new voice was added to the ever-growing collection, sharply rising above the sheepish murmurs of the former two. "Do you have a receipt?"  
  
*** ***  
  
It has been said that only two things are eternal, the universe and stupidity. That is wrong. There are more never-ending things than can be counted. Taxes, chaos, and alcohol being a few. But one of the things that you can absolutely count on is a dim-witted person coming in at exactly the right time to stall a villain's scheme. There is a special section of deities to make sure of that particular law, and it is not easy work, believe you me.  
  
But people with amazing timing continue to comically obstruct the paths of secondary villains, lovers keep on denying their affections, and Lina and Gourry continue to eat amounts of food completely disproportionate to their body weight. Ah, life.  
  
"You must have a receipt." The waiter demanded, apparently not caring that the two 'people' standing in front of him were so obviously inhuman it was ridiculous, "A receipt, a room key, or proof of some kind that you are checked into this inn before you enter the restaurant."  
  
The two aquatic mazoku simply stood there and dripped in a shocked way.  
  
"And next time towel yourself off before leaving your room," snapped the waiter, glaring at the two good- sized puddles forming under what could charitably be called their 'feet'. "This isn't a pool."  
  
"Now, look," Porpoise said, recovering slightly from the shock, "We are two mazoku. You are one human. To the best of my knowledge, if a single human crosses the path of any mazoku, they come out of it dead. Doesn't that make you tremble in fear? Don't you want to let us past?"  
  
"Do you have a room key?" asked the waiter flatly.  
  
"No."  
  
"Then you're staying here until you get one, sirs. If you don't have a room, then I highly suggest you leave. If you do not, I shall have to remove you by force."  
  
"Now, look!" spluttered Turtle, "I don't think you understand the severity of the situation here."  
  
"Look, Mr. Tortoise-"  
  
"Turtle! A tortoise is a land-dwelling reptilian creature! It slides around in the mud! It feeds on berries and things that are dry! While I am modeled after a TURTLE! A TURTLE! I swim! I'm an aquatic creature! Aquatic as in underwater! Beneath the ocean! In the bottomless drink!"  
  
"We have one of those!" remarked a passing server.  
  
"Shut up!" cried Turtle, pausing mid-rant to glare at him tearfully, "I care not about your beverage menu!"  
  
"Fine, Mr. Turtle," interrupted the waiter hastily, trying to head off another rant, "I'm afraid I can not allow you into the restaurant without proof of your residence here at this inn, mazoku or no mazoku."  
  
"Or what?"  
  
"Or I'll be forced to remove you in violent ways that I do not like to mention in the polite company of the ladies present." He waved an arm around, apparently indicating that the whole town was female.  
  
"Can we blow him up along with the door?" Turtle asked, still embittered at being called a tortoise.  
  
"I don't know. We'll have to check the rulebook."  
  
"Blow up?" spluttered the waiter. "You have an incendiary device? An explosive? You have brought, into the peaceful haven of our inn, a BOMB?"  
  
"A bomb?" parroted the people inhabiting the lobby area. A few minutes and a cloud of dust later, the lobby was bare of anything, save a few crumpled magazines and a single rubber ducky. It squeaked mournfully into the silence.  
  
"Oops."  
  
*** ***  
  
"Did anybody catch that last?" asked Gourry, who, like most men, was able to eat large quantities of food even under siege. He stuffed a sausage into his mouth.  
  
"He mentioned something about blowing up the door," Lina said casually. "Happens every day, especially when people are cheating at poker. Now, about this cruise-" She tapped a finger against a neon fuchsia slip of paper, grabbing a loaf of bread from Gourry.  
  
Smoke began to seep through the bottom of the door, pouring through the restaurant and creating a very attractive 'dry ice' effect. Furious yelling was heard from the opposite side of the door, rising above the 'oohs' and 'ahs' of the diners.  
  
"You idiot! You set off the smoke bomb!"  
  
"I'm sorry! I was just so confused about which was which and what I was supposed to do, I completely lost my head."  
  
"I'll make you 'lose your head' you bumbling oaf!"  
  
"Ouch! Hey, stop it! OUCH! Watch the shell! Look, this isn't helping anything, you know!"  
  
"Yes, but it's damned satisfying."  
  
"Look, why don't we just blow up the door now?"  
  
"But the effect will be ruined! You set off the smoke bomb too early!"  
  
"Does it really matter that much?"  
  
"Grr. Fine. "  
  
The door exploded outward in little fragments and splinters of mahogany, landing in a few patrons' breakfasts and causing an enormous commotion. Porpoise and Turtle stood, dramatically framed in smoke, their eyes glowing in a feral way as the stood in the wreckage of the inn's restaurant door, dripping viciously.  
  
"Hello," Porpoise paused for a few minutes to draw out the tension, "Lina Inverse. I-"  
  
"Hey!" an angry voice yelled, interrupting him, "You got wood in my porridge, young man!"  
  
And for the second time today the two hapless mazoku were struck speechless as they were once again harangued mercilessly, this time by an old man in an ancient wheelchair. He whacked his amber-tipped cane on their heads viciously as he babbled on about how terribly rude youngsters were nowadays.  
  
"In my day," he rasped, giving them a withering glare, "Young people was more respectful towards their elders. There was none of this such nonsense of blowing up doors." The cane met their heads once more as he thought on the subject. "In MY day, " he continued, "We didn't even have doors to blow up."  
  
"S'right," added another oldster, seated next to what used to be the door, and now sporting assorted wooden shrapnel in her hair, "We didn't even have any buildings!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I say we didn't have no buildings in our day, Edna!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"No buildings!"  
  
"Really? Where are we, then?"  
  
"And we didn't have none of the crazy styles you young people are wearin' today," the old man added, giving them a baleful stare, "None of this leather and chains stuff, let me tell you. And what are you supposed to be?" he asked, pointing at them with his cane, "A turtle and a dolphin?"  
  
*** ***  
  
"YOUR MOVE."  
  
"That's really not fair, you know. I can never tell which move you're going to pull."  
  
"I AM CHAOS, AFTER ALL."  
  
"That means it's okay for you to cheat?"  
  
"NOT AT ALL."  
  
"All right then-"  
  
"YOU CAN'T CHEAT IF YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MAKES THE RULES."  
  
*** ***  
  
The Senior's Society Of Arvene was morally appalled. Never in their very, very extensive lives had they been witness to any of their members being tied onto the rafters of the ceiling, gagged, and made to listen to a very long, very boring, very informative speech on the differences between turtles and tortoises, and dolphins and porpoises. It was all very shocking. They had taken a poll, and were all in agreement that this particular stunt even topped the time one of the young folks had conjured up what he called 'a motorcycle', rubbed lard in his hair, and sang scandalous songs about rebellion.  
  
And then, when the dolphin-who-was-actually-a-porpoise, and the turtle-who- was-not-to-be-called-a- tortoise had bellowed out their mission, the SSA had been even more taken aback at the complete haphazardness of their challenge. No one in THEIR day had ever been so incredibly lacking in manners as to say that they were going to kill someone.  
  
But they all had to agree it was very amazing how they'd managed the exact right moment for their explosive to go off; propelling them, in a shower of sparks and incandescent flowers, directly through the roof and into the sky.  
  
The mood had only been spoiled when one man at the bar lifted his glass and called for another Bloody Mary on the rocks. 


	4. Never Trust A Minion

It's an interesting fact that most people put little to no thought into a good three-fourths of what they do. For instance, no one ponders the meaning of life over the dinner table or at work. When a monster crashes his way through a city, leaving destruction in its wake, no one pauses just at the threshold of the wreckage to think: "Hm. I wonder if this would all have gone differently if that thing had had a better childhood. Is it possible that creatures are made as they are by the environment around them? If so, then what is a soul?" The lone philosopher would most probably then be crushed into an unrecognizable smear of pulp on the ground, ridding the society of yet another thinking individual who might get it into his head to protest tyranny and demand his rights.  
  
Another reason hardly anyone goes into deep-thought mode all day is because there simply isn't time. The body has several very important tasks set out that it must accomplish throughout the day. Eat, sleep, breathe, and move. Even in the middle of a philosophical lecture, the body's many inhabitants bicker to themselves as the mind attempts to make itself useful.  
  
The leg complains of bruising and cut off circulation from the uncomfortable pose. The stomach grumbles. The head itches. All in all, if your individual body parts could talk, it would sound like a political meeting on drugs.  
  
"I hurt. I move that we go to the nurse"  
  
"Hey, do think I could get some food, here? I haven't eaten since breakfast."  
  
"You think you're uncomfortable? Right leg's on top of me and I can't get any circulation. This is gonna cause some uncomfortable pins and needles, I'll tell you."  
  
"I think I'm going to go deaf. Could she be any louder?"  
  
'Hey, could you all shut up down there, I'm trying to pay attention!"  
  
"You try writing notes for three hours straight! Why couldn't you be ambidextrous?"  
  
"I say we get some food."  
  
"I say we get some."  
  
"Oh, great, the hormones are acting up."  
  
"I'm serious, I think we should definitely go get some food. Starvation is a terrible way to die."  
  
"I say we shift position. I can't feel myself."  
  
"I say you all shut up before I get a chainsaw! I'm in deep thought here!'  
  
And that is just a small sample of what your body has to deal with, day after day, hour after hour. Of course, you aren't required to *actively* think of breathing and other such minor tasks that are, nevertheless, necessary to your very survival. That chore is delegated to the lungs and respiratory system. But all of these messages to the brain leave little room for the existential.  
  
This is particularly true in the case of Gourry Gabriev. He was not exactly stupid. No one can come up with brilliant battle strategies and still be able to have the excuse of being a complete moron. The problem was that he was ultra-observant. In his line of work, being perceptive is a very useful, and often life-saving skill. It pays to be able to notice the arrow coming at you from behind, or the swordsman charging at what he thought was a blind spot.  
  
However, the problem with this particular skill was that it took up quite a bit of thinking space. The human brain can only take in so much information. So, all of his mind was focused on things like salt shakers and tiny crevices in the wall and how that would relate to a battle strategy, leaving no room for other, equally important things, such as the name of the Dark Lord they happened to be fighting. But every once in a while he went into a sort of stupor as his mind would go through the bits of gathered information like a secretary goes through files. This was 'tune out mode', where his eyes would glaze over, he'd stare off into deep space, and all signs would show that Gourry had left the building. He did this when something seemed important enough to need intense and unwavering concentration.  
  
Right now, he was absorbed with the problem at hand. He had the ring. He had the general idea of how a proposal was supposed to go, and he even had a sort of speech planned out. Now if the world would just shut up for a minute and let him talk, he'd probably get a good chance to actually get the first stage over with. Why was this so difficult?  
  
'You're an idiot,' said a small part of his subconscious, 'Just turn around, hand her the box, get down on one knee, and ask The Question. It's not rocket science or anything.'  
  
'What's a rocket?' asked the remaining part of his mind.  
  
'That's a secret,' replied the other part. 'All that matters right now is proposing to Lina, and then finding out various ways to spend the honeymoon.' The segment of his subconscious gave the impression that it had just winked suggestively.  
  
'Who is this?' asked the major part of Gourry's brain, 'I know that I haven't thought that far ahead.'  
  
'This is your inner Xelloss speaking. I'm a manifestation of all your doubts, negative emotions, repressed desires and secretly bad thoughts you have. To put it simply, this marriage thing is driving you nuts.' Inner Xelloss paused. 'Nice little fantasy with Lina and the tablecloth, by the way.'  
  
"Gourry," asked Lina, breaking his little inner conversation, "Why is your face bright red?"  
  
"Huh?" Gourry asked, dropping his fork with a clatter. "What happened?"  
  
"We were discussing the latest attempt on our lives, something that certain people," Here she shot Xelloss a glare, "refrained from mentioning to us."  
  
"It's more fun if you just find out for yourselves," Xelloss explained cheerfully.  
  
Lina growled and began to strangle the air. "Of all the- I could just- and- AAARGH!" Xelloss has that effect on people. He radiated an aura of annoyance. Much like carnivorous flowers exuding a tantalizing fragrance to draw insects in.  
  
"Yes?" Xelloss asked with an innocent air. He had quite forgotten how easily annoyed Lina was. Like fast food for mazoku.  
  
Lina suddenly appeared to calm down. "Xelloss," she said in a quiet tone of voice.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I want to tell you something."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Come closer, Xelloss."  
  
Xelloss hovered closer. It was a very old ploy, and he realized that. Any moment now she would pounce on him and begin to pummel him with a variety of imaginative kicks and punches, until he was one giant bruise. But sometimes, you just had to humor these people-  
  
He was abruptly cut of from his little monologue as Lina charged at him, knocked him to the floor, and began to pound his head against the hard wooden floor boards while spewing a variety of entirely unprintable obscenities, causing the remaining occupants of the restaurant to edge away until almost all the tables were against the wall. A few of the more bold ones took bets.  
  
"Lin-AH! Don't *ouch* you *ack* think this *ouch* is a little extreme?" Xelloss commented, taking a punch in the eye. Lina politely answered him by attempting to break his jaw.  
  
"Don't mind her," Gourry instructed congenially, from the other end of the table. "It's that time of the month."  
  
The universe seemed to screech to a grinding halt as Lina paused, mid- pummel, and raised her head to stare at Gourry, crimson eyes glowing with battle rage. The onlookers at the far end of the restaurant, sensing something catastrophic was bound to occur, began to evacuate the room. The silence seemed to stretch out for decades. The quiet was broken by a single voice.  
  
"Ten gold pieces on the red-haired chick!" A young man yelled from the other side of the room. Lina swiveled her head and gave him a predatory look. The young man blinked, swallowed, and began to try to become one with the wall. In a few seconds, Lina was across the room and laying into her chosen victim.  
  
"It's usually better to leave her alone when she's like this," Gourry explained to the extremely rumpled Xelloss, "She gets a little bit crazy sometimes."  
  
"She reminds me of someone I know," Xelloss commented.  
  
~  
  
"IDIOTS!" roared Deep Sea Dolphin, glaring at her loyal band of minions. "I give you one simple task, one abysmally simple task, and you botch the thing completely! All you had to do was complete one decent murder attempt! Is that too much to ask for? What kind of morons do I have working for me anyway? You brainless, drooling, thick-headed excuses for lower-level mazoku!"  
  
Porpoise and Turtle cringed back, in a futile attempt to make themselves look half their actual size. In the span of an hour, they'd had five pillows, one bag of liquorish allsorts, one enormous iron anvil, and a few assorted knick-knacks thrown at their head with incredible force. They sincerely hoped their lady Deep Sea Dolphin was running out of things to throw.  
  
"In our defense, O dark and sinister lady, we were not fully briefed on the certain complexities a proper assassination attempt includes. May I remind you that we were, quite literally, born yesterday." Porpoise said, submissively.  
  
"Ignorance is no excuse!" Dolphin roared, scrabbling around her throne for something to throw.  
  
"No," answered Turtle, "But it's an accepted as an alibi in many courts." He smiled proudly as Deep Sea Dolphin pause mid-scrabble and stared at him, taken aback. "It's also a great problem in many countries around the world," he added hopefully. It is to be noted that both Porpoise and Turtle were under the odd impression that being well-read makes you a more intelligent person. That may be true for some people. But in the case of these two, it simply made them all the more annoying.  
  
Dolphin gave them an especially menacing glare as she massaged her temples. Why?, she wondered, Why couldn't she have just made ONE minion, like that overbearing snob sibling of hers? It would make things so much more convenient. But no, she had wanted variety. Variety was the bloody spice of life after all, wasn't it? Why was it that all of her servants were complete idiots? She put great thought into this, then realized. Oh, of course. It was because she was evil. Evil people have stupid minions, she'd completely forgotten. It was practically a natural law.  
  
But that didn't mean she had to like it.  
  
"Do you know what this means?" she asked, rummaging around her enormous collection of silken pillows to find a bag of hard candies. "We'll have to form an intricate plot. You've just succeeded in making my life even more complicated." She managed to retrieve a small bag of butterscotch candies from beneath a large paisley pillow, and popped one in her mouth.  
  
Turtle raises his flipper tentatively. "But mistress," he protested, his expression radiating confusion, 'I was under the impression that we already had an intricate plot."  
  
She paused in the middle of some intense candy consumption to bestow him with another frosty glare. "No, you fool," she said, gaining an odd lisp because of the candy, "A casual plan of assassination is not an intricate scheme. It is, at best, a reckless hurtling into the joyful realm of chaotic destruction. Where were you when I handed out the brains?"  
  
"Restroom break," Porpoise and Turtle chimed, meekly.  
  
"I might have known," she groaned, feeling an immense headache coming on. "Listen up. Fortunately, for the two of you, you don't have to pull this plot out of thin air. The last time you tried that, the results were disastrous. Amusing, if this whole business wasn't so important, but disastrous nonetheless. My sources tell me that the two targets have won some sort of lovebird contest. Your mission is to follow them onto this particular event." She held up a brochure. "Do NOT attack them until you are well into sea. That way, if you fail, which you probably will, they'll drown anyway."  
  
"I don't understand." Porpoise said in his most humble fashion. "How are we supposed to attack them? Shall we bring the smoke bombs?"  
  
"Yes. And the other pyrotechnics as well. We want this to be an extremely flashy gruesome death. I highly suggest the Doom Whizzers." She reached across her gargantuan mass of pillows to snag another butterscotch candy. "Now be off with you."  
  
"Aren't you going to torture us in unspeakable ways, O Immeasurablely Evil One? "  
  
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She snarled. "No. I, unfortunately, need you intact for this."  
  
"Your mercy is overwhelming, my lady."  
  
"GET OUT!"  
  
"Yes'm!" Turtle and Porpoise scurried frantically out the door, leaving Dolphin to brood over at least eight pounds of sugar. Two brochures hurtled through the air and hit them just as the reached the door.  
  
"And take those with you, you imbeciles! It's the 'event' I told you about!" Dolphin yelled, slumping in her throne when the two had finally left the room. "I swear, the next time I have some sort of evil scheme I'll borrow Xelloss. At least he has more than two brain cells."  
  
~  
  
"Your move."  
  
"WELL. NOT THE MOST ORIGINAL MANUEVER IN THE WORLD."  
  
"But effective."  
  
"THAT REMAINS TO BE SEEN."  
  
~  
  
"All right," growled Lina, "What's next?" She had finally worked off the last vestiges of her rage, and Gourry was being exceedingly careful not to mention anything that may upset her. Xelloss, of course, was smiling cheerfully, sitting in his chair as though nothing important was going on.  
  
"We were looking through the brochures," Gourry prompted, holding one up. It advertised something involving sunscreen and large, inflatable palm trees. A chibi Zangulus waved a banner proclaiming 'Zoamelgustar welcomes you!'  
  
Lina stared at it. "Are there any normal places in this so-called 'tour'?"  
  
"There was the park"  
  
"Oh no, Gourry. I am not setting foot in a park again. Last time we went to one, there seemed to be some odd music constantly playing in the background."  
  
At the far end of the restaurant, the man in red snickered. The man in white dropped his head in his hands and heaved a gusty sigh.  
  
"I thought the hot dogs were good, though." Gourry said thoughtfully.  
  
"Not enough mustard." Lina replied, gingerly sorting through the remaining sheets of glossy paper. "What do you think of piercings, Gourry?" She asked, looking at a black sheet of paper in a kind of horrified fascination.  
  
"What do you mean by piercings?"  
  
"Put it like this. How would you like a tiny hole punched into your ear, so you can wear a gold hoop in it? Or, in this case, a shark's fang."  
  
Gourry's eyes widened and he scooted carefully away from Lina, who continued to look at the flyer.  
  
"Can you even get pierced there?" she asked the thin air, "It looks like it would make eating very difficult. OH MY GODS. You should see this guy. He looks like he's made entirely of metal."  
  
Xelloss leaned over to look at the paper. "Oh, I remember him," he mused. "A very interesting person, if not a great conversationalist. This must be before the incident."  
  
"What incident?"  
  
"It involves string, a large hoop tongue ring, a speeding train, and me."  
  
Lina gave him a look of utter disgust. He smiled and folded his hands in his lap.  
  
"You are one sick person, Xelloss," Lina finally said, feeling like she was going to be sick, "And I don't mean that as a compliment," she added, noting his wide grin.  
  
"I don't understand," Gourry put in, "How could string, an earring, and a speeding train have anything in common? Is this one of those word games?"  
  
"Oh, I'd be delighted to explain." Xelloss said happily. Lina shot him a glare that promised certain death in the near future.  
  
"No," she said firmly. "Gourry, just read the brochures and try not to think about it. Not that that should be much of a problem."  
  
Suddenly, the man in white stood up dramatically, and strode up to the table. In his hand, he held a brochure. In his hair, he wore an olive. It was still attached to the toothpick. He didn't seem to notice. He drew up close to the table and gave the inhabitants a solemn stare.  
  
Lina felt like she'd just been caught stealing something of great value. "Yes? Can I help you, sir?" Her mind squeaked frantically. The man had that kind of presence.  
  
"You dropped this," he said importantly, thrusting the brochure in Lina's face. She took it cautiously. "It's a cruise," he informed her, still fixing her with a hawklike stare.  
  
Lina stared back. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something. "It is?" she said quietly.  
  
"It's a very good cruise," The man said, "In fact, it may very well be the best cruise in the entire world. I highly suggest you go on it" The look in his eyes implied that they'd be very sorry if they didn't.  
  
"Okay," she said, her voice slightly squeaky with nervousness.  
  
Suddenly, the man in red snorted and walked over. "No, you're doing it all wrong," he said, "Look, see how I handle it." He turned to Lina and gave her a devilish grin. "Now, look young lady. You like to eat, right?"  
  
Lina, still caught up in the terrific presence of White Man, nodded. What next?  
  
"Well," continued the man in red, "Today's your lucky day. You should be glad my friend here," with that he nudged the white man, who attempted to plaster a friendly smile on his face, "Picked up this brochure. You see, this cruise is famous for it's All You Can Eat Buffet."  
  
"It IS?" Lina half yelled, her face suddenly a half inch from the red- clothed man. He nodded, still smiling. "Says so right her on this brochure, see?" He held up the brochure, and sure enough, the words 'Famous For All-You-Can-Eat Buffet' were splashed across the front.  
  
"Woohoo! We're going!" Within a few seconds, Lina had grabbed the brochure, Gourry, and Xelloss, and was getting ready to run out the door. 'By the way," She called back, just before she left the in, "Does he know that he has an olive stuck in his hair?"  
  
The door slammed shut, leaving Ceipheed and Shabranigdo alone in the deserted hotel restaurant. Ceipheed shot Shabranigdo an icy glare and proceeded to remove the olive from his hair. "Ha ha. Very funny."  
  
"Oh, come on. I thought it looked nice on you. Olive is definitely *you*."  
  
"Shut up." 


	5. The Plot Becomes Infinitely More Random

Lina had an astonishing ability to seemingly 'teleport' from one point to another. But, for some reason, she only managed to pull it off when food was involved. Against a super- powerful mazoku, a falling tree, and any number of dangers that required the attack-ee to high-tail it out of the vicinity, Lina was at a dead loss. She could move, and move quickly, but she could never quite manage that 'point A-to point B in less than a second' move. However, if you were to casually inform her of the existence of, say, an all you can eat buffet cruise, she'd be there. Literally. A second would pass, and whoosh! There she was! No matter how far the distance. No matter if she didn't even know the direct location of the food source. Perhaps it was magic. Perhaps it was adrenaline. Perhaps it was some odd sort of natural law. The possibilities are as endless as Lina's appetite.  
  
So, after hearing about the existence of a buffet cruise and having preformed her daily breakage of physical laws, Lina found herself standing in front of a rustic little house. It sported a recently painted sign that read: 'Romantic Cruise! Details Inside!' On the door of the house, someone had written: 'It's the BEST cruise in the WORLD!'. Alongside of that, another sign informed all the readers and would-be ticket purchasers that the cruise was Too Good To Pass Up. More signs along the cobblestone pathway notified everyone that this was the house to buy the tickets for The Best Cruise In The World.  
  
As Lina stared at these unorthodox decorations, the door to the house opened and a couple walked out, looking inordinately cheerful. They spotted Lina and Gourry, squinted as though they were trying to recognize them, and then beamed identical smiles. Gourry took an involuntary step back. Instincts told him that this was definitely not normal. Lina, however, was not bothered with insignificant things such as instincts and common sense. "Hey," She said, a little apprehensive about the two smiling strangers, "Is this...er...is this the place that you buy tickets for the cruise?" She asked, waving her hand at the extremely obvious signs. It is to be noted that Lina was not feeling herself that morning, after all the events of the extremely chaotic breakfast. Therefore, she could be excused for a little stupidity.  
  
The couple seemed to pay no attention to the ridiculousness of the question. "Why yes," The man said pleasantly, turning a dazzling smile on Lina and Gourry, "This is." He seemed to manifest his very own aura of sparkly cheerfulness.  
  
"Are you planning on buying tickets?" The woman inquired politely, matching the smile of her husband's with an equally pleasant smile of her own. Behind Lina and Gourry, Xelloss began to feel physically ill.  
  
"Yeah," Lina answered shortly, feeling a little ill herself, and vaguely reminded of puppet shows from when she was a child. The man and woman had the same blankly good-humored expression as the toys, and she was sure that, given the chance, the two would break into song and go off in a merry jig at any time. And Lina did not have the time for that sort of thing.  
  
"Oh, that is excellent!" The man declared, looking pleased. "Isn't that wonderful, darling?"  
  
"Simply superb," The woman said, flashing her teeth at Lina and Gourry.  
  
"And we'd like to point out that this is the best cruise in the world," The man said gleefully. "Please do remember that. If you were not to buy tickets on this cruise, you'd miss out on a wonderful experience."  
  
"Yes, it would be disastrous," Agreed the woman. "I shudder to think of all the people who are not buying tickets to this great event."  
  
"It is a sad thought," The man concurred, "But not all people can be so blessed as to have tickets to this cruise."  
  
"No, indeed they can not," The woman said sadly.  
  
At this moment, Lina, Gourry, and Xelloss were all staring at the two well- spoken, eclectic couple that stood before them. Lina was beginning to think that if that was the kind of people that were going off on the cruise, maybe she should better stick to dry land and a restaurant. Gourry had long tuned out to the conversation and was spending time pondering about swords. Xelloss was fighting the urge to hightail it out of there until the two weirdos had left, as they were inundating the place with positive emotions. Lina, however, was the one to speak first.  
  
"Alright," She said, after much consideration, "What the hell is wrong with you two?"  
  
"Wrong with us?" The man questioned, smiling unconcernedly at Lina, "How could anything possibly be wrong with us on such a glorious day like today?" The woman nodded in enthusiastic agreement, mirroring his smile.  
  
Lina nodded slowly and resisted the urge to scream and run away. She'd faced mazoku, Dark Lords, her sister at her most homicidal, and a whole host of murdering, thieving bandits, and all of them seemed like fluffy bunnies compared to these eerily cheerful strangers. " So you're going on the cruise, too, huh?" She asked stupidly.  
  
"Indeed we are!" Exclaimed the woman, pure and unadulterated joy infusing every syllable. "I am greatly looking forward to this magnificent journey across the great and beautiful ocean! Ah, the romance of it!" She clasped her hands to her bosom in a very dramatic fashion and gazed soulfully at the sky.  
  
"And are you intending to sign up for this lovely cruise?" Asked the man casually.  
  
"Yes." Lina said flatly.  
  
"How wonderful! Then we shall see you on board?"  
  
"I really hope not." Lina muttered under her breath. She had the strong opinion that too much exposure to these madly cheerful people would be hazardous to her health. It seemed to be affecting Xelloss especially. The mazoku in question was acting as if he'd just sprinted around the world five times in a row.  
  
"Lovely!" The man exclaimed delightedly. "And do remember that this is The Best Cruise In The World." With that, he took the woman's arm, put on a large and oddly festive hat, and made his way down the path. He seemed to be humming a cheerful song about bluebirds.  
  
"That," Lina said, after a long period of silence, "Must have been the oddest conversation I have ever had, and I've had quite a few."  
  
"Conversations or odd conversations?" questioned Gourry.  
  
"Both."  
  
*** ***  
  
"That was vaguely stupid, and a little over the top."  
  
"I'M NOT QUITE USED TO THESE THINGS. I THOUGHT THE SIGNS WERE A NICE TOUCH."  
  
"I'm sorry, but has anyone ever explained to you about the concept of subtlety?"  
  
"NO, WHY DON'T YOU? I'M SURE YOU'RE VERY EXPERIENCED IN THAT AREA."  
  
"I never hung up signs, thank you. If you keep this up, they're going to think something suspicious is going on. I mean, more suspicious than what is already happening."  
  
"JUST MAKE YOUR MOVE AND GET ON WITH IT."  
  
"Right."  
  
*** ***  
  
The inside of the cottage was slightly less blaringly tacky than the outside. It had no brightly painted signs advertising the self acclaimed 'Best Cruise In The World', but it did contain numerous paintings of so- called famous people who had gone on the cruise. 'So-called because Lina and Gourry didn't recognize a single name or face out of the entire bunch. However, the people portrayed in the paintings weren't really that striking. They all seemed to have had the same tailor, for instance. All of the men wore similar clothes of burgundy and black velvet suits and capes, and had similar mustaches and hair cuts. The woman all wore their hair up in gravity-defying hairdos, and all had amazing cleavage. Basically, they had that vague 'famous' aura around them...without the fame that usually went along with it.  
  
Lina gave up scrutinizing the many portraits, and began instead to scrutinize the person behind the gargantuan oaken desk at the end of the room. He was a small, mousy-looking individual that squinted down at them from behind a pair of red-tinted spectacles. He had what looked like a dead rodent on his head, but Lina fervently hoped that it was a toupee of some sort. "Well?" asked the man impatiently, "Are you just going to stand around there like a bunch of deer caught in Lighting?" He brandished a ridiculously flashy quill pen at them. "I haven't got all day, you know."  
  
"Er..." Said Lina intelligently.  
  
"I am to assume you're here to buy tickets?" The man asked, without waiting for an articulate response. "The price is fifty gold pieces each, and this includes a free t-shirt." The man reached gingerly behind the desk and withdrew a wadded piece of black fabric, which he shook out vigorously to reveal a bright logo of a badly drawn cruise liner. It was red and yellow, and sported the phrase: 'Best Crooze in the Wrold'.  
  
"I see you had problems with the design," Lina stated carefully. It was a sign of just how imposing this little man was that Lina hadn't said something incredibly rude. He gave off some kind of aura that said: 'If you lip off to me, you'll get what for and I mean it.' One looked at him and expected him to be holding a yardstick and scowling. "It's very...interesting." Lina finished lamely.  
  
The t-shirt looked like it had been scribbled on with crayon by a toddler on a sugar high. The cruise liner bore a vague resemblance to a giraffe. It even had spots.  
  
"Our artistic department is not well-staffed," the man replied coolly. He lowered the shirt and picked up his quill pen. "So," He continued in a business-like fashion, "How many tickets will you be purchasing today?"  
  
Lina shook her head. "Yes. Right. The tickets. Well, I've got a coupon for two free tickets to the cruise here," she waved the coupon. "I got it from a couple of flower-bearing madmen."  
  
"Ah, yes. Those would be Mr. Salt, Pepper, and Pomegranate."  
  
"Pomegranate?" Lina echoed.  
  
"Indeed. Those are their surnames."  
  
"Pomegranate?"  
  
"Yes. I believe it's a kind of seedy fruit. Red, pomegranate-shaped."  
  
"Pomegranate?"  
  
"Yes, I do believe I've said this before. The people in this town have a very unique way of naming things. We have a Mr. And Mrs. Howlingturnip over near the bakery."  
  
"How very...interesting." She stated, with no inflection at all.  
  
"Yes, it's a fine old tradition, naming people after random foodstuffs. I myself am named Mr. Cornucopia Rutabaga."  
  
"..." Lina replied.  
  
"Yes, it's a most interesting little tale." Mr. Rutabaga shuffled a stack of papers on his desk casually. "And now, we were discussing that coupon of yours."  
  
"Were we?" Lina asked flatly, still lost in the vagaries of vegetable- naming. "Oh, yeah. The coupon. Right." She proffered the coupon. "Yes. Here you go, Mr. Rutabaga. Or Cornucopia. Or Corny." She stopped herself abruptly and bit the inside of her cheek.  
  
"Uh, Lina? What about Xelloss?"  
  
"What about Xelloss, Gourry?"  
  
"Is he coming with us?"  
  
Both of them had a simultaneous vision of Xelloss wearing purple swimming trunks and large, tacky sunglasses. He was, of course, holding a very large iced drink with an amusing straw.  
  
"...I don't know." Lina muttered. "He doesn't seem like a cruise kind of guy. Or mazoku. Or whatever. And if he does want to come, he can damn well pay for his own tickets and t- shirt."  
  
Mental Xelloss donned the badly-designed cruise t-shirt and took a sip of his festive iced drink.  
  
"..." Said Lina.  
  
"..." Said Gourry.  
  
"I'll ask him," Gourry declared.  
  
"Right." Lina muttered, not wanting to delve any deeper into thoughts of swimsuit-clad Xelloss. "And ask him if he's expecting any other secrets to be revealed. I won't have any unforeseen catastrophes on my vacation, thank you."  
  
*** ***  
  
Xelloss had decided that he was just fine outside of the house, thank you, and declined to follow Lina and Gourry inside. Gourry found him reclining on a lawn chair that appeared to be made out of the slightly charred remains of the advertisement signs. He was, oddly, sipping a large, festive iced drink, sans straw. Instead, a tiny umbrella protruded from the ice and red liquid. He looked up, saw Gourry, and smiled in a frightening way. It wasn't that the smile wasn't friendly. It was extremely, painstakingly polite. It was unwaveringly cheerful. However, it was a brittle kind of cheerfulness that seemed to imply that the wearer of the smile would gladly murder anything within a five-mile radius at any minute, and that was very unsettling. Gourry unconsciously moved backwards one step.  
  
"Why, hello!" Xelloss greeted, fixed smile plastered across his face. "Are we finished, then?"  
  
Gourry noticed that Xelloss was holding a magazine very tightly in his right hand. The front cover seemed to be covered with pictures of various creatures being ripped apart by kitchen implements. He took another involuntary step back. "Lina wants to know if you're going on the cruise."  
  
There was a short period of silence, in which Xelloss's expression became so fixed it seemed to be engraved upon his face.  
  
"Yes," He said finally, "Yes, I believe I shall have to go." He unfolded his magazine and began to shuffle through the pages.  
  
"Uh...aren't you going to buy a ticket?"  
  
Xelloss lowered the magazine very slowly. "No." He said finally, meeting Gourry's eyes and flashing him a grin that would have been pleasant if it hadn't shown quite so many teeth.  
  
Gourry considered this. "But don't you need a ticket to get on the cruise?" He asked, with the air of one struggling to solve a particularly difficult math equation.  
  
"Very good, Gourry," Xelloss said patronizingly, "Have a rock." He handed Gourry a small rock which had apparently materialized from thin air.  
  
Gourry ignored the rock and concentrated on the situation at hand. "Do you already have a ticket?"  
  
"I already have the means necessary to board the boat." Xelloss replied obliquely, and turned a page in the magazine, revealing a picture of a dragon being disemboweled rather graphically. He chuckled. "Ah, the humor section."  
  
"So, you're going on the cruise?"  
  
"Yes, Gourry." Xelloss replied placidly.  
  
Gourry couldn't seem to pull his gaze from the ghastly images on the magazine. "So, er, you're, er, you've got a ticket?"  
  
"You could say that."  
  
"Er..."  
  
"I have packed a swimsuit, thank you for asking."  
  
"Er..."  
  
"Yes, it is a lovely day out."  
  
"Er..." Gourry repeated dumbly , staring in horrified fascination at the magazine.  
  
Xelloss marked his page, closed the magazine, and gave Gourry his best I- Look-Friendly-But-I'm-This- Close-To-Snapping-Into-Homocidal-Mode smile. "Well?"  
  
Gourry, who had paled considerably, opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. "I'll go see what Lina is doing." He said hurriedly, then rushed off with more haste than was necessary.  
  
Xelloss blinked and looked down at the magazine and at the flattened and mummified remains of a hamster that he had used to mark his page. He smiled, took a sip of his bright red iced drink, and began to read about the proper way to dissect a troll while it was still alive.  
  
*** ***  
  
After they purchased the tickets, the trio was left with a considerable amount of free time on their hands. The cruise would set off very conveniently the next morning, and this left the rest of the afternoon open. So, after a brief squabble, Lina and Gourry set off to explore the possibilities of a few of the least questionable stores on the coupon stack. Xelloss opted to stay behind and do...well, Lina didn't really find out what it was that Xelloss intended to do, and that may have been for the best. As far as recreational activities were concerned, mazoku usually went for things that would reduce a normal human to a gibbering pile of goo. That was, in fact, half the fun of doing those particular activities.  
  
So, having parted ways with Xelloss, there was only one thing that really needed to be done.  
  
They had to buy a large quantity of food and devour it messily.  
  
This of course, was done to the best of their abilities. Since many of us already have read this scenario over and over again, with the same round wooden tables, the same Japanese/European cuisine, and the same poorly-named hotels, the scene will not be written out in it's entirety. A picture can say a thousand words. And a conversation between Lina and Gourry can paint a thousand pictures in your head.  
  
"Let's eat!"  
  
Inarticulate crunching.  
  
Clinking of silverware.  
  
"That's my chicken! Gourry, you ate my chicken!"  
  
"Since when was it your chicken? It was on my plate!"  
  
"That was my plate!"  
  
"It was on my half of the table!"  
  
"The radius of the table is clearly indicated by this line!"  
  
Silence.  
  
"What?"  
  
"This line is separating the table into two equal halves!"  
  
"What's a radius?"  
  
"This line!"  
  
"So table lines are radiuses?"  
  
"No, lines that separate circles into equal halves are radiuses... I mean radii!"  
  
"What's a radii?"  
  
"The plural form of radius!"  
  
"What's a plural?"  
  
"MY CHICKEN! GOURRY YOU ATE MY CHICKEN!"  
  
"But it was on my half of the table!"  
  
"AAAAAARGH!"  
  
"Lina, banging your head against the radius could hurt something."  
  
'It's not a radius! This is just a scratch on the table!"  
  
"But table scratches are radiuses, right?"  
  
"I'll never tell you any new words again! Forget it! Forget I mentioned it!"  
  
"Want my chicken?"  
  
"Yes. Thank you."  
  
Inarticulate crunching noises.  
  
"Ma'am, I'd like to buy the chicken platter."  
  
"Do you prefer breasts or thighs, sir?"  
  
Crashing sounds.  
  
"What? What kind of place is this?"  
  
'Chicken breasts, ma'am."  
  
"What? Oh."  
  
"I like breasts."  
  
"Figures he'd like breasts, the way he goes on about mine."  
  
"What, Lina?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Lina, would this be considered a radius?"  
  
Bang. Bang. Bang.  
  
*** ***  
  
Some things must be done in the proper settings. For instance, a dark ceremony must always be held in a graveyard in the dead of night, and must be carried out by dark robed figures bathed in ghastly moonlight. Therefore, in a dark, slimy hole of an alleyway, a nefarious scheme was afoot. Two hulking, lumpy shaped lurked at the end of the alley. They were apparently learning the steps to some unusual tribal rain dance.  
  
"What are we doing exactly?"  
  
"Slinking. We're slinking."  
  
"Slinking?"  
  
"Yes. We've apparently failed at looming."  
  
"Ah."  
  
A pause.  
  
"So, now what?"  
  
"Hold up the sheet metal."  
  
The sound of particularly wobbly thunder echoed through the graffittied walls. A cat opened one eye, peered at the unfolding farce, and yawned. This used to be a decent alleyway, too.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Alright. We have proceeded with...The Plan."  
  
Silence.  
  
"The sheet metal. Hit the bloody sheet metal."  
  
"Oh, right! Start over, I've got it this time.  
  
"We have proceeded with...The Plan."  
  
At those portentous words, metal-induced thunder reverberated through the alleyway, causing the cat and the two figures to realize how great the acoustics of your typical alleyway were. The conversation was put on hold until the ringing in their ears stopped.  
  
"Now what?"  
  
"Maniacal laughter."  
  
"Ahahahahaha."  
  
"No, from the chest. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!"  
  
"Mwahahaha."  
  
"Like you mean it!"  
  
"Eeehehehehehe..."  
  
"You're actually getting worse with practice. How is that even possible?"  
  
"Talent?"  
  
"Never mind. In any case, Lina Inverse and Gourry Gabriev will be OURS."  
  
"No they won't."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"They'll be dead."  
  
'Well, of course they'll be dead. But they'll be ours, see."  
  
"I don't see how. Hell's pretty much free territory since Hellmaster got himself grounded by L-sama."  
  
"No, they'll be ours because they fell victim to our nefarious scheme."  
  
"And that makes them ours, right? They belong to us because we tricked them. Someone is going to come up and give us documents proclaiming that we know have ownership of the Dragon Spooker and the Swordsman of Light."  
  
'Well, no, obviously not."  
  
"Well then, how?"  
  
"Look, it's a saying, all right? Don't look too much into it."  
  
"Like the lemonade one?"  
  
"Exactly like the lemonade one."  
  
"Because personally, if life gave me lemons I'd wonder what kind of drugs I was on. If I was human, I mean. Life doesn't usually show up in person."  
  
"Well, you know humans."  
  
"Actually, I don't."  
  
"I meant that you are probably familiar with the odd ways of humans."  
  
"Never understood sobriety myself."  
  
"Oh, forget it. Have a sucker." 


	6. in Which Purchasing A Dolly Would Have B...

  Madame Zolda's was a lovely establishment, with many decent, hardworking members of society employed for various positions. The catch was that the employees weren't exactly human. Actually, they weren't human at all. But they tried not to discriminate against less intelligent creatures, so the human customers were usually treated well. They did have a bit of trouble with a basilisk employee, but nothing is ever perfect.

  Gourry stared in befuddlement as a griffon walked by, carrying a crate of unidentifiable magical objects. Something shiny and jewel-encrusted poked out of the top of the crate, spread tiny mechanical wings, and attempted to dive-bomb a passing customer. The griffon snapped it's beak at the errant merchandise, causing the thing, whatever it was, to dive back in the dubious safety of it's packing. A rusty creak was heard, followed by silence.  "Lina," he said slowly, being very careful not to think of what he just saw, "What exactly are we here for?"

 Lina, who managed to ignore every bizarre thing that was going on in the shop by busily rummaging through the shelves, pulled out a beaker and blew the dust off of it. "I told you. I'm out of a few supplies. This happens to be a potions shop. A very unique potions shop, but it sells the stuff, and that's all I want to know."

 That morning, after Lina and Gourry had gone through their morning ritual of arguing, eating more food than one would think humanly possible, eating some more, and then procrastinating over where to go, Lina had procured the coupon for Madame Zolda's from some random pocket in her Cape of Holding, and announced that they _would_ be going there before they stepped foot on the cruise. Gourry had no idea what 'supplies' Lina could possibly need, but decided not to argue. Arguing with Lina tended to be hazardous to one's health.

 So, there they stood. Well, to be perfectly honest, Lina was standing. Gourry happened to be crouched on the ground, surveying the chaos. Most of the time, the tiny magic shops that Lina chose to look in bored him to tears. This one, however, had any number of interesting things to look at to pass the time. The customers themselves would provide endless staring pleasure.

 The sorcerers who shopped here were apparently fond of voluminous, flashy robes. Said robes were embroidered with magical runes, done in gold and silver thread, embroidered again with vague, swirled patterns, stamped with sigils and encrusted with false and enchanted gems, and then finally embroidered and bejeweled once more. In fact, the sorcerers' earth-shaking, disastrous spells were not as impressive as the fact that they could still move with outfits that weighed about a ton.  The sorceresses actually went the separate road on this one, opting to wear as little as possible. Quite a lot of their outfits looked painted on.

Lina ignored their questions of exactly why she was wearing so much clothing, and drew a dusty vial, filled with an ominously glowing blue fluid, out of the shelf in front of her. A few lazy red sparkles floated in the liquid, winking in and out like fireflies. The vial itself was absolutely coated in dust, it's paper label moth eaten  and smudged with more dust. The runes on the tag, however, were perfectly legible.

"Got it!" Lina declared, looking quite pleased with her discovery.

Gourry studied the vial curiously. It looked toxic. On the other side of the label, the words 'Not meante for oral consumptionne' were written in spidery script. "Good?" he asked. Lina nodded in response. "…What is it?" he inquired, genuinely curious. The thing looked like it could be used as a night light.

"Can't tell you that," Lina said pertly. "You wouldn't understand." Putting the vial in the wicker basket she'd been given upon entering the shop, Lina sauntered off to the front of the store to purchase the mystery potion, leaving Gourry utterly confused. Plunking the basket on the counter, Lina gave the…thing behind the counter an imperious look. "I want to buy this." She announced.

The thing, which seemed to be the result of a mating between troll and chicken, gave her a very beady stare and said absolutely nothing. The silence stretched out uncomfortably for a few minutes as Lina waited for it to say something. It ruffled its feathers and proceeded to say…nothing.

"Hello?" Lina tried, waving a hand in front of it's face, "HELLO? I. Want. To. Buy. This."

Silence.

"See this potion right here?"

The thing saw it.

"I want to buy this potion." Lina gestured at the vial with exaggerated hand motions.

Even more silence. Lina began to lose her admittedly short temper. "LOOK!" she yelled, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I said I want to buy this!" She waved the vial in front of it, waving her other arm frantically. "How about I just give you the money? You like money, right? Would that be okay?"

Still a noticeable lack of response from the thing. 

Now thoroughly put out, Lina set the vial itself down on the counter in front of her with an audible 'clink'. The instant it touched the wood, the chicken thing in front of her began to admit a loud beeping sound. As Lina stared in a mixture of shock and bemusement, Chicken Thing moved its massive hand jerkily towards the vial, lifting it in the air. Its other hand came into view, clutching an odd, square mechanism. "He-llo and wel-come to Ma-dame Zolda's," Chicken Thing said, in a very pleasant feminine voice. "Re-member to pur-chase our fa-mous love pot-ion. Free sam-ple with every or-der." The mechanism shot out a thin stream of red light at the vial's tag and beeped. "That will be five gold pie-ces. Thank you for shop-ping at Mad-ame Zolda's."

 At this point, Lina's mouth had fallen wide open, her eyes bulged, and she seemed quite at a loss for words. Gourry, who had come up behind her, was in a similar state. Lina, operating under some kind of instinct, reached into her purse and retrieved five gold pieces and placed them in Chicken Thing's hand. It immediately pocketed them, placing them in its large blue apron, and produced a paper bag for the vial. "Come a-gain la-ter!" It said cheerily.

"No way in hell, muttered Lina, snatching the bag. "Come on Gourry, before we run into something even crazier. Like an enchanted statue of Prince Phil or something."

Gourry, still staring wide-eyed at the thing, nodded and hurried out, eager to go somewhere relatively sane.

"I always heard chickens didn't have opposable thumbs."

Lina stopped in her tracks. "Gourry." She said quietly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Why, of all the many times we have been through mind-boggling events, dangerous battles, and numerous other occasions, the like of which no one's ever seen…WHY did you suddenly decide to start applying logic now? To a CHICKEN?"

"What, I shouldn't have?"

"Gourry?"

"Yes?"

"Sometimes I really wonder how you manage to walk and talk at the same time."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. Come on, we're going to the port. Grab my bags and try not to be distracted by shiny objects."

::::

  In the elaborately evil throne room of Deep Sea Dolphin, intense wardrobe difficulties had occurred. From the depths of the Demon Sea, the wailing scream of a clothing deprived dark lord issued forth. Loud apologies followed suit.

 "What do you MEAN, I have run out of evening gowns? I couldn't possibly have run out! Those are the only clothes I own!" Dolphin sat, with admirable grace and poise, on her delicately carved throne, garbed only in her nightclothes. A floppy nightcap, decorated with mer-teddies, perched rakishly on her head. At the moment, she looked quite ready to devour her assistants whole.

 The assistants, two lesser mazoku that looked as if they were fashioned out of bits of seaweed and driftwood, wrung what passed for their hands and began groveling. "Forgive us, Lady Deep Sea Dolphin!" they wailed, "We forgot to pick them up at the dry cleaners!"

Dolphin opened her mouth to yell, and then shut it as a thought occurred to her. "Wait," she said, perplexed, "How did you find a dry cleaners underwater?"

The two minions glanced at each other and shrugged. Dolphin pondered this a few minutes more before returning to the previously scheduled tirade. "ANYWAY!" she snapped, "The point remains that you have single-handedly deprived me of my wardrobe! A dark lord MUST be properly garbed at all times! How am I supposed to radiate an aura of terror and hostility while wearing my pajamas?"

"We think that her evilness looks positively murderous in her pajamas," one of the minions offered meekly.

"Silence!" Dolphin snapped, "Don't try to flatter me! You are the absolute WORST minions I ever had the immense displeasure of creating!"

A minion raised a trembling hand. Dolphin glared at it. "Yes?" she asked coldly.

"Well," stammered the creature, "Do you mean worst in a bad way or a good way?"

She stared at it, completely confused. "What?" she managed, not knowing where this was going to lead.

"I mean, like, we're the bad guys, if we're the worst, that actually means we're the baddest, and that's a good thing. But if we're the worst at being bad, that means we're good, like kind-hearted and friendly good."

"Maybe we're the best at being bad." Suggested the other minion.

"So, we're actually good?"

"What kind of good, _good_ or _good_?"

"But look, we're still the bad guys, it doesn't make sense!"

"I'm not listening to you!"

"SILENCE!" Dolphin roared, irritated beyond all proportion at the two minions' rambling, "Who hired you two anyway?"

"Actually, I think we just wandered in."

"You can't just 'wander in'! You had to have been someone's minion before, and I'm damn sure you weren't mine!"

"We're freelance."

"A freelance _mazoku_?"

"Don't see what's wrong with that," mumbled the mazoku on the right. His companion nodded, dislodging a few strands of seaweed and driftwood from the top of his head.

"You're wearing costumes, aren't you?" Dolphin asked glacially. "You're really just wearing costumes made out of seaweed and other such things, aren't you?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," mumbled the minion on the left. "It's a skin condition, that's all. I'm, uh, peeling. Right. Too much time in fresh water."

"He's dreadfully allergic to fresh water." Right mazoku supplied helpfully.

Dolphin considered this for some time. "All right," she said, finally. "I am going to give you two five minutes to get out of my sight, before I hack you apart and feed you to ten rabid sharks, sew you together again, and mount you on my wall."

"Right you are, then," both minions cried, and hightailed it out of there with the speed of the adrenaline-soaked.

"And tell the rest of them that if they don't get me something decent to wear, I shall skewer them!" Dolphin screamed at their retreating backs. "Honestly. You can never get decent help nowadays. I should be more hard on them."

::::

 Lina looked around the port with a vague feeling of disease. After all the odd things that had been happening in the past few days, she was beginning to develop a slight paranoia. At that moment, she thought, she wouldn't be at all surprised if someone randomly wheeled in an enormous cake and a scantily clad dancer girl leapt out of it, juggled flaming rabbits with her teeth, and then sang a song.

 It didn't help that the place looked deceptively normal. There were quite a few of those skeevy fisherman types, sure. The ones with the weird, musty smelling rain slickers and galoshes, with scars apparently picked up while tackling one of the more brutal specimens of fish, and an accent that was really hard to place. They sort of hung out by the piers, swapping stories about very large fish with names that always began with 'Old' or 'Big', and fish jaws that could straighten any fish hook and snap any line.

 Those actually seemed to come with the ports. Once you made a port, Lina thought, along came all these people that somehow attached themselves to it, becoming permanent fixtures. Like barnacles on the side of boats. There'd be the produce sellers, the barefoot mud rakers, the innkeepers and restaurant owners. A port without them was just a wooden structure at the end of the water.

 "Lina?" Gourry asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"What?" she asked sharply.

"Do I really have to carry all this?"

 Lina turned her head to look at him, one hand on her hip as she appraised his current situation. She found herself face to face with what passed as a duffle bag in that particular period in history. Gourry was laden with luggage. On each arm he carried two bags, and he cradled a trunk against his chest. Another bag he carried by the teeth. Lina had managed to attach a few of the bulkier items onto his back. The result was quite peculiar. It looked as though a man made entirely of travel equipment was standing next to her.

 His eyes, though, were certainly visible. And right now he was trying to give her the Puppy Dog Eyes Look while cringing under the weight of the bags.

Lina stared at him. Gourry stared back. A moment passed, one of those long, beautiful moments where the wind rustles the hair of young lovers reaching for the right words to say to their beloved, and the sun shines gorgeously and yet still manages to maintain a muted aura of romance to it, and then somewhere in the treetops, a bluebird sings.

 Unfortunately, the scenery worked against the perfect moment of silence and what Lina and Gourry got was a sea water infused burst of wind, the smell of decaying fish heads and salt, and a seagull squawking directly above their heads.

 Lina swept a glance at Gourry and the luggage. "Yes." She said coolly. Gourry's shoulders slumped, partly out of dejected resignation and partly because the bags were so heavy. Lina turned back to her inspection of the ship. It was large.

 Actually, large is an understatement of biblical proportions. To say that the ship was merely large would be like calling Shabranigdo a bad citizen. The ship was immense. It filled up most of the pier with it's bulk. It was one of those ships that make one stare and really, really wonder about how the thing could even manage to float. Added to this, it was flamboyantly decorated in many swirls and swashes of intricate gold and pink trimming. The boat itself was painted white and a lovely shade of rose. The name of the ship was painted in a black, gold edged glory of the calligrapher's art in grand scale.

 Lina squinted at the twisted tangle of what were apparently letters, trying to make out what they said. After about five minutes, she gave up. The captain knew the name, and that was basically all that mattered. "Anyway," she said, grabbing Gourry, or at least a piece of luggage that Gourry was holding, "Let's go give our tickets to the person in charge and stow this…somewhere."

Gourry nodded miserably. The worst part of this was, while he had the perfect moment to pop the question, he barely had access to his mouth, let alone the pocket in which he'd stashed The Ring.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you two have a little love nest of some sort. It follows, looking at the theme of this ship."

Gourry winced at what appeared to be another conversation with Inner Xelloss. "How'd I get one of you, anyway?"

"That's a secret."

"Really?"

"No, actually. I'm just saying that to perpetuate my secretive and mysterious persona."

"Huh?"

"I'm being a jerk."

"Oh."

"Hey…since I'm part of your psyche, you'd think that you'd know the meaning of these words. After all, I am a part of you."

"You mean I might be a genius?"

"That's a little much, pal. I personally think that you don't pay attention to anything you hear, and all those excess words get lodged up her in your mind. You apparently can't focus on anything other than shiny objects and swords."

"You know, I don't have to take this from…myself."

"You're right. You can always take it from Lina." There was a very odd mental sensation of a wink and a smirk. "But you'd really enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

Gourry blushed. "You-"

"Hey look! Sword!"

"Where?"

 Now, it's always a bad idea to zone out while carrying heavy items on a pier. It's an especially bad idea to look around frantically, while holding said heavy items, while traveling on the aforementioned pier. To sum it up, Gourry and the luggage made an impact on the surrounding scenery. Of course, the surrounding scenery happened to be a wooden post. Gourry felt like the trunk he was carrying was now embedded in his abdomen.

He blinked. "Ow." He said, after much consideration. Lina rolled her eyes, handed the man their tickets, and steered the amazing human luggage rack towards their assigned room, stopping only to remove the bag handle that had become almost permanently lodged in Gourry's teeth. Business as usual.


End file.
